Forest of Fireflies
by Vongola Princessa
Summary: She was a dancer— nimble, lithe, and light on her feet. Just as easily as she could recreate the sound of the orchestra, she could retrace the steps of lovely dances. Konoha had no room for people like her; she would force her way in.
1. Chapter 1

**Forest of Fireflies**

She was a dancer— nimble, lithe, and light on her feet. Just as easily as she could recreate the sound of the orchestra, she could retrace the steps of lovely dances. Konoha had no room for people like her; she would force her way in.

* * *

 **ONE**

It wasn't until Takano Hotaru looked into the mirror, seeing clearly for the first time, that she realized she wasn't Takano Hotaru.

But she was (she couldn't really tell anymore).

Maybe in another world she had thick, honey brown hair that would coil into tight ringlets. Maybe in another world she had equally light upturned eyes. Maybe in another world she wasn't Takano Hotaru.

But dreams were dreams and dreams would stay hidden away until they became goals. And dream she did.

She dreamt that she was flying in the air, lifted by arms no thicker than hers. She wore beautiful glittery dresses fit for a princess, often with a matching twinkling headpiece. She could twist her body in all sorts of angles, balancing precariously on the tip of her toes. She dreamt with a clarity that she didn't know she had, waking up with foreign words at the tip of her tongue.

Pointe. Arabesque. Retire. Pirouette. Ferme.

And the sweet, sweet sound of the piano often echoed in her ears (what was a piano?). She hummed and hummed to songs she didn't know, her feet retraced steps ingrained in some part of her from another lifetime ago as her fingers strained to stay still.

She wasn't and she was Takano Hotaru.

"Oh my dear firefly, what are you singing now?" She is lifted into the air; if she just pointed her toes a bit and arched her back, she could feel the dream coming true.

Takano Hotaru smiled innocently down at her father (her father didn't have black hair and equally black eyes). "Tchaikovsky," she answered simply.

Her father (not not— not?) twirled her around and laughed freely. "Ah, what did papa and mama do to deserve such a creative and talented daughter as you?" He set her down and gently bopped her nose, "You must keep creating, there's more than enough destroyers in this world."

But Tchaikovsky wasn't hers to create, in this lifetime or the previous. Tchaikovsky, Mozart, Pachelbel, Beethoven, Chopin, Bach... she could go on and on of beautiful creators that she would butcher in this new world.

For now, they would be her little secret until she could find a way to share the beautiful music and dances of her dreams. For now, she would train her body and fingers to obey the positions of her dreams, preparing to make her dreams a reality.

She wasn't and she was Takano Hotaru. But she was a creator —an artist— no matter who or where she was.

Dreams were dreams, and her dreams would become goals.

* * *

Ballerinas came in all shapes and sizes— but it rang true that all ballerinas were strong. Takano Hotaru would become strong in her own right, she was determined to.

She knew she was still too young to begin weight training or working on her pointe. Instead, she built up her upper body strength and ran to course power through her legs.

It appeared to be the norm in this new world to see children cartwheeling up and down the streets, pulling up on bars, training to become ninjas. Hotaru was taken back at first- ninjas in her past life were tales of ancient history. But under the guise of playing "ninja" and enjoying the park playground, she honed her young body for a life of dance.

"Hotaru!" Her mother called from the playground bench, "It's time for your lessons!"

Though her mother was a baker and her father a merchant, Hotaru would be an artist.

Ballet, she learned, only existed in the small pockets of this world where wealth and status dictated power. She traded ballet and the piano for kabuki and the koto (she was slowly becoming Takano Hotaru). She did not let go of her dreams, she would come back to ballet when the time would come. Her fingers still itched for ivory keys, but the stinging strings of the koto satisfied their hunger for now. The piano too, was considered an odd instrument in her village.

At the local theater, Hotaru was taught the delicate steps of various kabuki forms. She was still too young to attend academic school, but she begged her parents for lessons on this world's dance and music.

And her parents did not disappoint.

Today's lesson, she mused, was a waste of her time. A repeat of the lesson from the day before; for the four year old bodies of her classmates had yet to grasp the language of the shamisen and taiko drums the same way hers did. The stiff movements and heavy costumes were unlike anything she ever wore, but it had its own elegant charm that Hotaru still found herself drawn to.

Hotaru swung her mother's hand as she skipped along the dirt path. Her koto teacher would be arriving soon for tutoring. It appeared that music was music universally. Reading the notes was fairly easy, it was merely her fingers regaining the dexterity needed.

"Today's piece is going to be one my favorites, I know it!"

Her mother giggled and allowed herself to be dragged by her daughter. "And how is that?"

"It's the music to the dance we are learning at the theater as well! It's going to be so easy for me to play it," Hotaru boasted. She normally was a quiet little thing, but when her kabuki teacher complimented her and recommended her to move up a level, she couldn't help but feel giddy. Maybe ballet wasn't as far away as it seemed.

Letting go of her mother's hand, Hotaru trotted ahead the familiar path and allowed her memories of ballet to take over. She set her feet in first position and continued to twirl into a pirouette and jumped into a jeté. Landing perfectly, she moved her hands and feet in perfect unison and the imaginary music pulled her along into beautiful flicks of the wrist and moments of flexibility.

"My talented little flower!"

"Papa!" Somehow she danced her way home. Her father waited patiently outside the door and lifted her into his arms above his head when she neared. Still feeling the rush of happiness, Hotaru pointed her leg down, toes curving into perfect crescents as her other leg stretched high behind her. She balanced with her hands on her father's shoulders and his hands on her waist. The wind caressed her dark, silky tresses inherited from her mother and Hotaru felt free. She was in her element.

Her mother followed with laughter as her father set her down.

"Why don't you have a small snack before Mikoto-sensei arrives?" Her mother suggested as she takes off her coat.

Hotaru nodded demurely, the happiness settling in. She felt at peace.

* * *

"Shall we go to the park, my little flower?"

Ever since her first koto and kabuki lessons, her parents called her their little flower. It was fitting, for Hotaru grew in grace and elegance unseen in a civilian daughter. Light on her feet with a flexibility rivaled by only children training to become ninjas, Hotaru was lithe and nimble. Though her father teased of Hotaru training to become a court lady, it wasn't far from the truth. She wanted to dance in the capital of the Land of Fire, where the arts flourished.

"Yes please!"

The park was the perfect place for her to train her body and flexibility.

Hotaru rode gleefully on her father's shoulders as he told her stories of his trades.

As they arrived to the park, her father placed her gently down and shooed her to go play. Hotaru watched as he waved and took a seat on a bench. Shrugging, she searched for her kabuki friends.

Not finding a familiar face amongst the sea of children, Hotaru settled for working on her balance. She stood along the outer rim of the park structure, its cement serving as a beam. Standing on her toes, she began her practiced glide.

She paused when she noticed that an upside down boy on the monkey bars was staring at her. A boy. Her father didn't like it when she talked to boys. She didn't like it very much either. She blinked. Staring owlishly at the young boy, Hotaru tilted her head in a questioning manner as an untrained blush graced her cheeks.

Seeing as he didn't say anything, she continued her practice.

"What are you doing?"

"Um," she paused, willing herself not to stutter, "training?"

He flipped off the monkey bars with such ease that Hotaru contemplated asking him for help. She could barely even get across the bars, let alone swing off so elegantly.

"Are you going to the ninja academy?" His childlike voice was formal. Despite his evident age and tone, he spoke like he was years older.

Hotaru shook her head rapidly, strands of her black hair fell around her face. "I want to be a dancer," she said proudly.

The boy scoffed and slipped his hands in his pocket. His silvery hair bobbed with every movement— "A clumsy girl like you?"

She faltered and nearly tripped on her own feet.

Huffing, Hotaru turned her head and began her training once more, she did not deign to reply to him. She would never ask him for help, what an annoying boy after all.

And she was not crying, she was not a crybaby. He was just a mean boy who didn't know elegance if it slapped him in the face (even if he could flip really well off monkey bars).

"Ar-are you crying?" his voice had no inflections despite the stutter.

Her voice shaking, she said, "You said something mean, what did you expect?"

She avoided looking at him in the eyes and busied herself short allegro movements across her makeshift beam. The boy left after a moment and Hotaru let out a breath of relief. Hopping off the cement, she stood peacefully in the patch of grass. Hotaru began to hum to herself the dramatic hits of the taiko drum as her body fell into it's practiced position with ease. In her head, she imagined the sweet tune of the shamisen stringing along the harmony.

Abruptly stopping at the sound of crunching bark, her concentration broke and she was reminded that she was only at a park. Hotaru turned to follow the noise to reveal the same mean boy from before, this time holding weeds.

"For you," he said shortly and pushed them to her.

"They're weeds," she said nervously back. Is this how kids were bullied, being paralleled to the weed beneath their feet?

He blinked at her and shoved them in her hands anyways. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, looking everywhere but her, "I think you'll be a very good dancer."

"Oh." She softened and the blush came back, reaching the tip of her ears. "Um, thank you—"

"Kakashi. Hatake Kakashi."

"Thank you, Hatake-kun," she said politely.

The boy looked at her oddly, "You can just call me Kakashi, we are the same age, aren't we?"

"O-okay," Hotaru stuttered, calling him by his first name felt intimate, "Um, thanks Kakashi-kun. My name is, um, Takano Hotaru, you can just call me Hotaru."

She felt incredibly awkward, what did four year olds normally talk about anyways? Her mind has always been on dance and music, and here she was talking to a boy. A boy.

Kakashi nodded and tested out her name, "Hotaru-san."

Was that steam coming out of her body? Oh dear, the blush on her cheeks heated and she felt her heart palpating out of her chest.

"Wellitwasnicetomeetyou, bye!" she jumbled out and ran to the bench she hoped her father was still sitting at. Hotaru nearly tripped over her own feet once more but was instead rescued by a strong arm. The calloused fingers enclosed itself around her wiry arm and she felt the wind being knocked out of her chest. Dark grey eyes reminiscent of the boy she was talking to blinked at her, full of mirth.

"Kakashi-kun?" she unwilling blurted out. A squeak escaped her because she knew he wasn't Kakashi, but their similarities were unparalleled.

"It appears you met my son?"

* * *

Happy CivilianOC! haAHahha! Not quite a self-insert because Hotaru knows literally nothing of Naruto, as you can tell, she was too focused on herself, on her music and dance. um anyways, I'm not sure if I want to fully write for this story since I'm going to school again soon, but I lovelovelove art (music, dance, drawing, etc) AU stuff and so out came this! Hotaru will remain strictly civilian btw, but drop a review pls :~) thank you okie bye


	2. Chapter 2

**Forest of Fireflies**

She was a dancer— nimble, lithe, and light on her feet. Just as easily as she could recreate the sound of the orchestra, she could retrace the steps of lovely dances. Konoha had no room for people like her; she would force her way in.

* * *

 **TWO**

He was easily one of the biggest men she'd ever seen, his body towering over her small frame and his tight grip on her arm reminded her of the difference between a ninja and civilian.

The silver haired man released her arm and bellowed out a warm chuckle. Hotaru's blush from before returned and settled on her cheeks. She quickly bowed and inched away, "I am so sorry, Hatake-san, I wasn't watching where I was going."

"Have no fear," came his boisterous laugh, "where else should a child run freely other than a park?"

"Father?" Jogging to the duo came the silver haired man's miniature double. Kakashi looked back and forth between Hotaru and his father.

Hotaru, feeling flustered, toyed with the bouquet of weeds he had given her. "Um, thank you for helping me, Hatake-san. I should get going, my father is expecting me."

The man nodded and said, "Of course, of course! Hop along, ochibi-san."

She bowed once more at her savior and robotically turned to Kakashi to bow as well. Seeing as she tried to escape him before, she felt awkward being in his presence again. "Goodbye Kakashi-kun, Hatake-san."

Hotaru scurried away as fast as her short legs could take her. She forgot how nerve wracking it was to speak to strangers. At the theater, her classmates were far more immature; though, it was as expected for four year olds to act like so. Her kabuki and koto teachers treated her at the skill level she was it, babying her would only put her behind in her talents.

That Kakashi sure was weird though, one moment he was mean and the next he was apologizing with weeds of all things. His silver tufts of hair looked like something an old man should have, not a little boy like him. Maybe, she pondered, he wasn't a little boy after all? The ninja world was an odd place to live and she wouldn't put it past her that something like him would be the norm. She giggled to herself, maybe he was an old man that never grew.

Seeing her father, Hotaru shook her head, ridding all thoughts of silver haired boys and identical fathers. "Papa, can we go back now?" She blinked and looked up through her lashes at her resting father.

"But my little flower, you have a couple of hours still until your koto lesson. Are you sure you don't want to stay and play a bit?" asked her father as he glanced down at his watch.

Hotaru nodded rapidly, "I would like to wash up before sensei comes. Mikoto-sensei always says a lady must always be as refreshing as a flower."

Her father chuckled, though it was not as boisterous as the silver haired man, it was still music to her ears. Her father scooped her into his arms and she leaned her head against his chest.

Hotaru hummed an old diddle from her memories, feeling safe and content in the arms of her father.

* * *

Hotaru avoided the park after that day, in fact she avoided going out as much as possible, only making the trek to the theater and back home. The only reminder of meeting the Hatakes withered away in her colorful mug and browning water.

Talking to people was hard- she'd rather compose a piece on the koto or dance a jig to get her message across. She learned to find comfort within the confines of her home. The small garden became her audience and she took the flowers blooming in her direction as their standing ovation.

Today, she patiently waited for Mikoto to show up. Hotaru and her family always went to great lengths to set up her koto lessons; her sensei came from a prestigious family of the village and they wanted to present only the best to the clan head's wife.

Uchiha Mikoto was the very personification of elegance and grace, her every action was controlled yet flowed like water. There was no doubt that Mikoto was a lady of utmost standing. Hotaru could only thank her lucky stars that her kabuki teacher put in a good word for her. Apparently, as part of her upbringing as a lady and ninja, the Uchiha matriarch was well versed in dance, music, and ikebana. Hotaru was only a _little_ bit in love with her teacher.

The soft knock on the door broke Hotaru from her reverie. Standing up, she straightened out her simple dress and walked with silent ease to the door. She blushed when her eyes met Mikoto's, her sensei just exuded refinement and sophistication.

And then they played.

The harmonic reverberation from the two kotos rang in the air. Though Hotaru did not think she was not as skilled as Mikoto just yet, she certainly tried her hardest to keep up.

"That is all I could teach you, little flower," came Mikoto's velvet voice as they finished their piece.

Hotaru blinked in shock, "I doubt that is so, Mikoto-sensei."

Her teacher smiled warmly at her and a blush began to make it's way to her cheeks.

"You are smart, your hard work shines above your talent and all I could pass on are more difficult pieces." Hotaru preened at her beloved sensei's compliments. She was truly thankful for the opportunity to connect with her memories in any way possible, and the koto was the next best thing to a piano.

Mikoto paused, "Have you thought about attending the Ninja Academy? Music and dance are great skills for ninjas of infiltration."

Hotaru closed her eyes and hummed in response (what did infiltration even mean?). Her fingers drifted over the koto, finding a piece of home in the ivory bridges. She fiddled with the pitches before responding, "I want to be the best dancer Fire Country had ever seen." With that, out flowed a cheerful piece plucked by her dainty and quick fingers.

She could care less for this ninja business. Fighting was violence, music and dance was peace.

"Ah," was all Mikoto replied.

As the lesson wrapped up, Mikoto reached into her bag and pulled out blank music notebooks.

"I recalled you asked for some?"

Hotaru'a eyes fluttered in excitement- quality music sheets were hard to get by for her family. There were no computers or printers civilians had easy access to, thus music sheets were quite costly.

She abruptly stood and bowed profusely at her teacher. "Thank you so much, Mikoto-sensei," she could feel her eyes watering, and began wiping them furiously away with the sleeves of her dress.

"Oh my little flower, why are you crying?" Mikoto opened her arms and gathered the young girl into a hug. "It isn't much, but you have been a wonderful student. When you become a famous dancer, you must remember to let everyone know who taught you the skill of music."

When Mikoto left, Hotaru stumbled into her room. She set her koto down and flattened out the notebooks of empty sheet music her sensei had gifted. Closing her eyes, Hotaru began to hum a pianissimo melody. The third movement of Suite Bergamasque did not exist in these elemental nations, but from her koto and memories would rise Debussy's Clair de Lune.

Yet it was not the same.

Frustration began to build up and Hotaru tried to will away the inevitable tears. She was so close, so so close. She wanted to cling on to her memories anyway she could- something to prove that her memories were real. Why was Hotaru gifted with flashes of bright stage lights, hauntingly beautiful music, and polished dances if it were not to share it with the world?

Hotaru could dance to her heart's content, her trained figure balancing with ease through twisted positions; however, she could not replicate the sound of music she once knew the same way. She could not write note for note with only memory to guide her through the difficult music of Czerny, Brahms, and Strauss. Her broken hums became broken wails, her dreams were real; she knew it from the tip of her toes to the roots of her hair. Hotaru moved her fingers rapidly across the koto and forced the strings to bend to her will-

A string snapped.

Hotaru froze. Robotically, she forced herself to take the broken koto downstairs to her parents. She didn't quite remember what she said; her parents merely smiled and nodded. They took her small koto and even smaller hands and guided her down the bustling street. Though the sun had set, Konoha's marketplace was still thriving.

It was a blur to Hotaru, but soon she found herself surrounded by the comforting smell of wood and polish. Decorating each part of the wall were instruments of all kinds. She took a deep breath and let go of her parents' hand, silently inspecting each instrument. Her fingers glazed over strings, bronze, wood, she idly wondered where this stillness had come from within her. Surely her cheeks were still tear stained and her eyes swollen, yet the ache in her heart and the dullness in her fingers were swept away the instance she set foot into the antiqued shop.

"Jun-san said he could easily fix the string on your koto, don't cry little flower," her mother cooed from a distance, yet it all went over Hotaru's head.

"No."

"No?" Echoed her father.

Then her fingers rested on cool bamboo. Dark in color, the small, transverse instrument was light in her hand; nothing like the koto she played. The nohkan was a traditional instrument that played an important role in the kabuki ensemble, its whistling chimes often overshadowed. She remembered hearing the trill of the bamboo flute for the first time: like a phoenix singing.

"I want to learn the nohkan," Hotaru decided. She knew she could not relive her last life, the barest of memories lied only in music and dance after all. But she would take what she learned and grow from it. She closed her eyes- there wasn't anything to move on from, they were merely dreams, but what good would she be if the beautiful melodies in her head stayed there. She would not remain stagnant, a new found determination wedged within herself. Hotaru did not want to recreate a poor imitation of Debussy, rather she would transform the movement. Forcing the melodies of her memories to find comfort in a new land would not work... she would coax out a new tune fitting of both her memories and the elemental nations.

Her parents eyed each other before sighing and patting her head. "Consider it a congratulatory gift for completing your koto lessons," her father smiled down at her nostalgically.

"It's okay to slow down," her mother said as she bent down to Hotaru's height, "These instruments aren't going anywhere."

Hotaru smiled blindingly back at her parents.

* * *

The first few weeks with the bamboo flute saw everything Hotaru saw- she did not set her new instrument down and constantly whistled whatever she could. She still had her koto strings fixed, but she decided to dedicate her time perfecting a new instrument as well. The only time the nohkan was out of her grasp was during her kabuki classes.

Now in a higher class, Hotaru worked harder to keep up with her older classmates. Dancing came to her with such ease that she wondered if she had been a kabuki performer in one of her past lives.

The theater was preparing for their winter show, it would run through a month of weekends and Hotaru thrummed with excitement at performing on stage once more. Her parents had promise they would attend opening night, she knew her father was currently working overtime in order to free up the weekend of her first shows.

"Little flower, are you waiting for your parents?"

"Ah," a glance up revealed her kabuki teacher. Hotaru stumbled out a bow, "Yes, Aiko-sensei. My mother must be held up at the bakery."

Aiko, in Hotaru's eyes, aged beautifully. There was no doubt in Aiko's past that suitors must have lined outside the theater for miles just for a glimpse of the classic beauty dancing kabuki. With long, elegant finger and a stretched neck, her teacher was a lovely woman whose talents never left.

Aiko hummed and waited patiently beside Hotaru. "You are learning much faster than your peers," she hummed once more, "Much faster and talented than anyone I had ever taught."

Hotaru bit her lip and avoided her kabuki sensei's eyes, for she was sure a vivid blush had risen.

"Come to the theater every other night and I shall teach you more."

She blinked, her sensei's words echoing in her ears.

"I believe you have the dedication to make it beyond this theater."

With that, her teacher spun on her heels and walked back into the theater, leaving the young girl to her thoughts.

 _The_ Matsuhira Aiko wanted to teach _her_ , little Takano Hotaru. It was one thing to be registered and pay for classes, but it was another to be specifically called back for personal lessons. Aiko thought Hotaru had talent, that she could succeed.

Hotaru was floating on cloud nine when her mother came. She daydreamed of her impending fame, of the stages she would dance across.

"Ok, here we are, little flower!" Her mother had guided her to the park?

"I'm sorry?"

Her mother sighed and smiled softly, brushing Hotaru's thick hair aside. "You will be starting the academy soon, you should enjoy these little things while you can."

Hotaru knew it was unbecoming of a lady to pout, but she was still a child. She did not want to argue with her mother and instead clutched her nohkan and set off for the swings.

As her short legs pushed back and forth, she played a warbled tune from the bamboo flute. Mikoto no longer taught her the koto, but the lady had a large repertoire of musical skill, nohkan included.

"You came back."

Halting in her refrain, Hotaru turned to look into stormy grey eyes. The young boy's face was covered by a mask today, hiding the beauty mark she recalled on his chin. She did not know how to respond and chose to merely nod.

"You're the only girl who ever ran away from me," he commented casually. She began the warbling notes once more. "Everybody at the park vies for my attention. Except for you."

Seeing as she didn't respond, he continued, "I've seen you at the park before, you're always dancing to yourself or doing that weird thing with your hands." She twitched, he was far more chatty than she remembered. And he used big words she didn't understand yet.

"But I probably won't see you again, you see, I'm going to the academy soon. I'm basically an adult already."

Hotaru furrowed her brows but did not drop a single note. Her song came to an end and she rested the nohkan on her lap as she gently swung.

"I don't think that's how it works," she paused and added an afterthought for clarification, "um, being an adult when you enter the academy, that is."

He looked like he was ready to protest, so Hotaru kept talking. "I think I'm starting the academy as well, um, maybe we can be friends," she said, shyly avoiding his eyes.

"Your song sounded lonely, I guess we can be friends."

This is what it feels like to make a friend, she thought. It was certainly different than she had imagine; her memories showed her friends sabotaging one and another for dance roles and opportunities.

Hotaru and Kakashi spent their final days before the academy together. He became a regular at the Takano home, picking up Hotaru's hobbies with ease.

It was magical for Hotaru.

Kakashi seemed to be skillful at anything and everything. Though his body awkward, his feet followed the steps of kabuki dance with an innate grace. His fingers danced basic melodies across the strings of a koto as Hotaru accompanied him with the nohkan. She finally had someone to share her passions with, someone who understood what she tried to convey through a music note or move.

"Why can't we go to the training fields today? We're always at the theater or your house." She had never heard Kakashi whined before, she supposed this was as close as she was going to get to it.

"But didn't you say the koto helped you go move the, um, hand seals faster? And the dance moves improved your balance!" Hotaru stuttered, "It's our last day before the academy starts… we should just relax!"

He eyed her dubiously and she began to feel skittish at the thought of leaving the comfort of her home. Instead of continuing the conversation, she began tickle the strings of her koto. The silk strings hummed at her touch, begging to sing. Hotaru closed her dark eyes and allowed the music to transport her. The melody was from the upcoming show at the theater, although she had no solos in the performance, she was still part of the group acts.

"Dance, I'll play."

She opened her eyes and smiled, grateful her understood her, and let his amateur fingers glide over her koto.

Dance she did.

* * *

They promised to meet outside the academy gates, but with only less than five minutes before the opening ceremony, Kakashi was nowhere in sight. Hotaru bit her lips nervously— she had shooed away her family as the civilian academy ceremony was quite simple and she had wanted to sit with Kakashi. But where was he? He was never late to anything, in fact he was always annoyingly ten minutes early.

"Excuse me? Are you an incoming student?"

Hotaru looked behind her to see a kind lady bent over to her height. She nodded carefully and hid behind her black tresses.

"The opening ceremony is going to begin soon, why don't I take you over there?"

Though the lady's voice was kind, Hotaru found herself shaking her head frantically, her voice equally wavering, "I'm, um, waiting for my friend. He said he was going to meet me at the gates."

The lady smiled gently, Hotaru decided she liked the lady and all her softness.

"What's his name?" the lady asked, reaching out for Hotaru's hand.

Hotaru blushed when she realized she was holding on tightly to the other woman. "Ha-Hatake Kakashi."

The lady's eyes seemed to poop open as she openly laughed. "Oh sweetheart, no Hatake would be going to the civilian academy. Come on, I'll take you to a seat. We have special guests from the Hokage's council speaking."

With the protests dying at her lips, Hotary found herself being prodded along. Tears stung at her eyes, Kakashi never broke his promises and she never wanted to break theirs. Wasn't the academy just the academy? If he wasn't going to her academy, what other school was he going to?

Hotaru took one last watery look to the promised gates and allowed herself to be guided, not knowing how to speak up.

* * *

And there's chapter 2 :~) Please remember that despite her talent, Hotaru is young and she's not an SI that knows about the Naruto world: she thinks she lives in a small village and that there was one school. She doesn't care about being a ninja at all, so much to the point that she doesn't even pay attention to the ninja lifestyle (aka the differences in a civilian academy vs. ninja).

Hotaru will stay civilian regardless of anything thrown her way, I suppose she'll dance her way out of it, even if everyone but her wants her to become a ninja.

Please leave a review or something nice or I DUNNO!


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